There is a common saying (at least among my best friends) that a girl can only work at The Alligator every other semester.
You see, I used to take breaks from The Alligator. In my first two years at the paper, I’d take an “off semester.” I would tell everyone I knew I needed a break from the workload or the lack of suitable payment. In all honesty, I wasn’t staying away for any of these reasons.
For the longest time, I never felt I belonged at The Alligator. Though I spent every Sunday afternoon there, I was terrified of anyone knowing too much — which is ironic when you work with a group of people who want to know everything.
On Sundays, I’d sit in the corner of meetings, only speak when spoken to and quietly wait to share my pitch and walk back to my freshman dorm.
After meetings, I’d cry to my mom about how I felt I had let my editor down when my (few) stories needed intense editing. Christian Casale, your toughness made me a better writer and person. Alissa Gary, I’m sorry for ghosting you during my bad luck semester. Bonny Matejowsky, thank you for your friendship and patience.
I would skip meetings, parties and final prints, knowing I would have no one to talk to.
In Spring 2025, after working at the paper since Spring 2023, I would attend my first final print. For those of you who do not know, at the final print, non-returning staff give speeches about how the paper has changed them, and you get to go upstairs to watch the paper come off the printing press.
At this time in my Alligator career, I was the assistant multimedia editor to Madilyn “Madi” Gemme, a woman I admire endlessly. That night, I watched Nicole Beltran, a friend I made outside of the paper who joined the same semester I did, who was resigning her role as engagement managing editor, give a speech that made me realize all I had been missing as a passive Alligator staffer.
On the drive home, I promised myself not only to see an entire year through, but to actively participate in the social aspects of The Alligator.
Freshman me would be shocked, but I can now confidently say this past year at The Alligator has fundamentally changed me.
To everyone who has ever been on my multimedia desk — Henry A. Moore, Dylan Speicher, Del Halter, Morgan Waters, Jea Nace, Libby Clifton, Jordan Klucharich, Juleidi Machuca, Ryan Friedenberg, Bayden Armstrong, Daniela Peñafiel, Rohit Paranjape, Reagan Bresnahan, Caroline Walsh, Alexandros Theodossis, Sonaiya Brown and Mike Goston: Let your creativity continue to guide you through this life. Do not let anyone water it down (unless they are your editor and have meaningful edits). Thank you all for giving me a place to belong.
To my assistant editors, sharing this responsibility with you has been the highlight of my college experience. Kade Sowers, thank you for applying after I basically harassed you to. Your laughter made my Gainesville summer less painful, and you helped figure out how to lead this desk. Noah Lantor, you have taught me so much. You are the embodiment of passion for what you do. I don’t have to tell you to stick with it because I know you will. Go change the world.
On the multimedia desk, we have a tradition. If it is your first time with a photo or graphic on the front cover of the newspaper, you get to climb those steps up to the printing press and watch your work come to life.
If you're lucky enough, you’ll meet Jason, the man in charge of the printer. If you're luckier, you’ll see your name and your work materialize — and realize this is right where you belong.
Sydney Johnson was the Fall 2025 multimedia editor.
Sydney Johnson is the Fall 2025 multimedia editor. This is her second semester in the role. She previously served as the assistant multimedia editor and a general assignment reporter for the university desk. When she is not at the Alligator, she is capturing North Central Florida for WUFT News. In her free time, she can be found sewing, hiking or logging movies on Letterboxd.
